The 11th Commandment
by Elizabeth Burke
Summary: An elaboration of why Fiona was so willing to turn herself in at the end of 5x16. Because everyone needs something to believe in, a God, their country, or just maybe, love.


**Special thanks to Sputnik for his help with Bible quotes, I ended up dicing them to best suit my purpose so if anyone reading would like the lines they came from feel free to add such information in your review or a PM and I will happily oblige. Also to those on season 6, yay for Jesse being added to the title sequence.**

* * *

Fiona Glenanne still believes in God.

She knows for some that was hard to swallow, not least of all Michael. "After all we've seen, after all we've done, how? How can you still believe something, knowing, and powerful, and _good_, created all of this?" he had asked her one night in the loft under the cover of darkness. His words were heavy, weighty enough that was as if they hit the air with a sickening thud, like the many dead bodies the pair had witnessed fall over the years. It was the closest Michael would ever come to expressing regret for the path his life had taken.

She didn't want him to regret it, at least, not totally. Micheal was a good person, and while she thought their "side work" was far more valuable than Michael's endless quest to rejoin the CIA, she understood that the official nature of his work mattered. Michael liked helping people-no matter what-but having someone else's approval still meant something to a man who had spent most of his life isolated, alone.

Several heartbeats passed as their slow rhythmic breathing filled what little space was left between them. "Because," she began softly, considering her next words, "God created _you_, Micheal. You're a proverbial 'light to lighten'. 'We have different gifts, according to the grace given us-'"

Michael stopped her, angry, "What is my gift Fi? To bring pain to those I love. To put people in danger? I've ruined so many lives."

"And saved so many more." She rolled over to face him, their lips a hair's breadth apart. "If it's serving, let him serve," she whispers.

"Michael Westen, the puppet of monsters like Anson. Grand," he replied.

Fiona kissed him forcing his expression to soften. "You're no puppet. You and Sam just have faith in your country. I have faith in an invisible man in the sky. Sometimes, faith lets us down. It doesn't mean we should give up. 'By your endurance you will gain your lives.' That's speaking to us.

"I don't know, Fi. I just don't know anything anymore."

"I do. We're going to get Anson, and we're going to get back to what we do. It's who we are."

Micheal smirked a little, and although he didn't seem fully convinced he said nothing more on the subject, instead he wrapped an arm around Fiona's waist and shut his eyes, settled in for a sleep that never came.

* * *

In the wake of Claire's death so many lifetimes ago, Fiona had had her first and last crisis of faith. She came to realize that God had not abandoned her, on the contrary, he was calling her to act. The IRA would be step one on her path to fulfilling God's mission for her. So she carried forth that mission as it evolved and evolved, until it brought her here, to Miami, with Michael, doing jobs.

'What about the commandments?' her detractors would say. She had broken most of them, often repeatedly. She had forsaken her family. She now lies, and cheats, and steals. And she has killed and will kill again. Her new life could not afford days of rest, for evil was an unrelenting adversary. Thus, most of the most sacred laws lay shattered at her feet. But, they reunited families, they stopped murderers, they did good things for good people, means and method be damned. If she needed reassurance, she need only recall the many smiles of grateful clients with loved ones back in their arms again, or the relief in the eyes of those who had their life savings returned to them.

And so she would need a new creed. She would come to call it the 11th Commandment: "Above all else thou shalt always do the right thing." Fiona knew the right thing would sometimes be messy, sometimes cloudy, sometimes incredibly difficult, but she would always know what it was.

Today the right thing was stopping that slimeball Anson. It was forcing Michael's hand by eliminating the one obstacle that was keeping him from doing what he should have done all along. Her mind was made up, she would enlist Sam's help to turn herself in. But first she would leave Michael a confession, full of hope, full of love. It would be enough. It had to be enough.

Fiona believed in God; Fiona followed the 11th Commandment. Now she needed Michael to believe in something too; in himself.


End file.
